Hymns of a Future Grim: Overture
by der Reichtangle
Summary: Following Saren's and Sovereign's defeat, Shepard and her allies strive to rebuild and recuperate from the battle. Unbeknownst to them, a far more destructive force is about to make its grand entrace into the galactic stage, with grim implications for the future of the human race. WH40k x MassEffect [[Disclaimer, this is an old unfinished story, do not expect any further updates]]
1. Saint

_Darkness..._

 _When did the dark veil descend upon our future?_

 _Is misery and suffering all we can expect in our lives?_

 _All we can expect in the after-life?_

 _Puppets to the whims of gods, we struggle in vain to comprehend?_

 _How long will it last?_

 _War..._

 _How long have we been fighting?_

 _How many give their lives away everyday?_

 _Against enemies that cannot be measured... seen... felt... fought... defeated?_

 _Is peace a relic of a distant past?_

 _Or simply an illusion to begin with?_

 _Death..._

 _How much have I seen during my life?_

 _Difficult to tell, but certainly more than most. More than I should have ever seen._

 _That I know._

 _So many questions fill my mind, and the answers I try to seek inevitably end up adding to that number. Will it ever stop? Will I discover the answers? Will someone else ever find them?_

 _Even know as the galaxy burns, as the Imperium tries to survive the never-ending onslaught, as millions of every race and creed die in hopes their sacrifice will bring forth the future that those they serve desire, it's simple questions like these that occupy my mind. As the light of the Emperor slowly fades away, as mankind faces its darkest hour, I merely try to find answers. Is it even worth it to have them? Should I have them? Will I change anything if I have them?_

 _It doesn't matter, time conspires against me._

 _You are reading this. I already told everything I knew and gave everything I had left. You have the privilege to know the part you'll play: A puppet able to see its strings. I trust that you will play it, in spite of your attempts to stray from the path._

 _Regardless of my fate this day, the events that will soon unfold will dictate the fates of incalculable souls journeying the ever-flowing river of the Warp and shape the Galaxy itself. You and I will play my part on those events._

 _That I also know._

 _The XXXIV_

 _ **Final excerpt from the manuscript retrieved from the ruins of the Fort Epsilon-004 and delivered to Lord Inquisitor Dante Lazerian of the Ordo Xenos.**_

 _ **Attributed to rebel commander and arch-heretic "The Saint", as he is known by his followers.**_

* * *

 _"My Lord, our Emperor, blessed thou on the throne,"_

 _"Grant us mercy, for our souls will soon clash in battle,"_

 _"For we are the instruments of your holy fury,"_

 _"Guide our blades as we strike, our aim as we deliver your might,"_

 _"Grant us the will to defeat your enemies,"_

"Hmmh, excuse me…"

 _"To the heretic we will grant our flame,"_

 _"To the xeno we will grant our hate,"_

 _"To the daemon we will grant our zeal,"_

"Sir?"

 _"For you are the light that guides mankind in the darkness,"_

"Excuse me, Sir?"

" _For you are the bane of its enemies, our hope and their despair,"_

"Sir, can you hear me?"

 _"For you are our Emperor, our savior, our strength and their END."_

"SIR!"

 _ **Imperial Mining World Cellas Prime  
Segmentum Pacificus**_

 _ **840.M41**_

The shout broke through the self-induced trance as he opened his eyes and slowly gazed his surroundings.

 _Nothing._ Nothing but the endless grey wastes filled with craters.

He finally felt the pressure from someone's hand on his shoulder. Turning his head around, he noticed the young corporal who had been trying to get his attention, a look of concern in her face gradually giving away to one of fear as she promptly removed her hand.

"So... so sorry to disturb your prayers" she apologized in a meek tone "but I don't... I don't think it's very safe for you to..."

Whatever her concern was he clearly didn't care. He returned to the same position as before: sitting down, head slightly leaned forward, gun in his lap, both hands grasping each end. Not one word came out of him. Giving up, the corporal walked away, moving towards her two fellow guardsmen a couple dozen meters away, who've been witnessing everything.

"Told ya he wouldn't listen." one of them said.

"Shut up Logan. I'm not in the mood right now."

"Come on Kai! I know you're into the dark, mysterious, brooding kind, but that guy is a bit too much for you to handle." he teased.

"I said shut the fuck up, Logan!" she quickly snapped back at her comrade.

"Oh my, getting violent are we?" the other guardsmen mused "She had that exact same expression on her face when she had the hots for the sarge, remember?" as he suggestively poked Logan with his elbow.

"You too Samuel, fuck off!" she rebuked with increasing anger.

Logan and Samuel merely break out laughing at Corporal Kai's rising fury.

"Don't try to deny it! You were totally eyeballing that masked weirdo." Logan shouted back, still mocking her.

"I wasn't 'eyeballing' him, I was just worried. Ok?!" she answered back, trying to calm herself down, hiding her red face lest they make the wrong impression of it. "He's just a soldier like any of us."

"'Like any of us' my ass. You saw them already. Those fucking Kriegers aren't soldiers. They're nothing but creepy little dolls that won't even breathe unless Command tells them to. Those freaks are nothing like you, me or Logan."

"Considering how fucked up this whole campaign was before they arrived, I say that's a good thing. Guys like him saved our asses several times over." she pointed out "And here I was thinking you were mature enough not to throw jealousy tantrums."

"Oh, so now we are just jealous? Is that it?"

"That or I'm not the one harboring secret feelings I don't tell others." she added.

"Something you're hiding from us Sam?" Logan asked, barely containing himself from laughing loudly. "I honestly never thought you're into that sort of thing."

"Damn it man!? I thought you were on my side."

* * *

He could hear the commotion between the soldiers despite their efforts to keep it to themselves. He didn't care. He was trained to filter any unnecessary noise on the battlefield and the ramblings of three guardsmen were easy enough to put behind. He was staring at the horizon, barely discernible due to the grey color of the clouds and soil, occasionally lit up by the flash of explosions.

The final assault was underway.

But he was here, sitting in a rock lying next to a crater and a burnt husk of a tree. Praying, like a good guardsman should do in the eve of battle. Like he always did. Facing the battlefields he had fought on.

The corporal's concerns were unfounded. The position was sufficiently behind their lines to be safe from enemy fire, save for artillery which he doubted a besieged enemy would waste on a single target right before battle. He closed his eyes again, ready to start praying again. The close roar of Basilisks and Medusas and the wisp of falling shells denied him of that satisfaction.

 _Preparatory bombardment._

Swiftly getting up, he made his way to the trenches as did the three guardsmen, interrupting their pointless discussion upon hearing the salvo. A peculiar sight caught his attention has he made his way to the front: several vehicles in the distance moving into position, bearing the unmistakable 'I' of the Inquisition.

 _Why are they doing here?_

Whatever the answer was it was not for him to know.

Down in the trenches, the men were busy preparing themselves for the pending assault: double-checking all their equipment, getting into position and giving last minute prayers to the Emperor for safeguard. Through this agitation, he made his way to his men, no doubt already prepared unlike the others, when he was approached by a rather large built man.

"You're kind is not one to be late for an attack."

He didn't respond. The man was Captain Uriah Solomon, Cellian 4th Regiment, 3rd Company, his _de facto_ commander at the present moment. Brave, zealous (at least when compared with a regular guardsman) and generally competent, albeit showing signs of hesitancy at inopportune times.

"Sorry, I keep forgetting you're not one for jokes." Solomon forced a laugh trying to defuse the situation. An awkward silence briefly settled in "Anyway, are you're men ready?"

"Yes." the Krieger responded "When?"

"Soon. I take it another five to ten minutes before the artillery stops."

"The enemy?"

"Cowering in their holes. Saving their fire for us no doubt." Solomon paused "I assume you still remember the details of our strategy."

 _Of course I remember._

* * *

For the past year and a half, Cellas Prime had been the site of a widespread rebellion against the Imperium. What started as a group of disgruntled miners rioting over food shortages quickly escalated out of hand into a full blown revolt across the planet, and the rebels were now supported by full regiments of renegade guardsmen. The local regiments and PDF were unable to dislodge the renegades due in no small part to the impressive fortifications and trench works erected around their territory. The war quickly turned into a slow battle of attrition for each inch of soil. A battle the Cellians were losing.

Ultimately, it was these conditions that lead to the deployment of the 77th Krieg Siege Regiment in Cellas Prime, six months ago, alongside the 32nd Infantry and 7th Armored Regiments, supplemented by several independent artillery batteries.

Their arrival, at behest of Segmentum Command, managed to invert the situation on the ground. Their expertise in siege warfare greatly aided the Cellians, who finally managed to take the initiative and retake lost ground. Although that isn't to say it was a simple task. The Kriegers themselves had to admit the nature of the fortifications they faced was fairly impressive: forts erected on difficult to access geographical strongpoints, trench works and strategically placed minefields designed to create killzones were artillery and heavy weaponry could concentrate fire, underground tunnels and bunkers capable of sustaining long bombardments, among many others.

In the Krieger's eyes this is what strikes him as eerily odd. Their mining background aside, the Cellians were clearly not familiarized with this kind of warfare nor were they capable of projecting such an intricate and vast web of defenses. So where in the Emperor's name did the renegade guardsmen, who can apparently construct fortifications seemingly Krieg in nature, came from?

The presence of the Inquisition shattered any possible sense of normality in this situation.

Despite the bad feeling, the mission ahead was more important. The bulk of the Krieger forces, supported by several Cellian regiments, were tasked with taking the main enemy bulwark and where Command believed the leadership of the rebellion was located. This was not his assignment however, much to his frustration. He and his Grenadiers were to assist the 4th Cellian in taking Fort Epsilon-004, a relatively minor emplacement, made of an spider web shaped line of trenches surrounding a large command bunker, situated in the outer perimeter of the main enemy HQ. Command believed these kinds of forts were connected to the main HQ via subterranean tunnels and that the enemy leadership might slip through one of them once the main assault was ongoing.

The plan Captain Solomon was referring was simple enough. General Sigorn of the 1st Cellian Armored Regiment would attack the fort from the eastern approach, drawing the enemy to that side, while the 4th would advance from the west taking advantage of the, hopefully, undermanned lines. 3rd Company and the Krieg Grenadiers had the honor of taking on the most heavily defended section of the line, which lead directly into the central bunker's entrance.

* * *

Before Solomon could inquire the silent Krieger further, General Sigorn voxed in.

"Beginning advance towards the fort." his voice has muffled by the sound of several engines in the background. "As soon as the artillery stops, comence your attack. Over."

"Understood. Over." Solomon responded "Everybody into position, now! Emperor willing, this ends today!" the Captain shouted, turning to his men, who responded with an assertive shout.

While the guardsmen assumed positions, the Captain turned around to face the Krieger again.

"See you on the breach, my friend. Emperor protects!"

"Emperor protects."

As expected, his own men were already prepared, waiting for him to return. He didn't need to address them. They knew what lied ahead; they knew their duty in the following moments. Asking Kriegers if they were ready was nothing short of an insult to them.

The bombardment was about to end and, like so many times before, they began their battle rites. Their las rifles held against the trench wall; their helmets against the barrels; eyes closed; reciting their traditional prayer.

" _Emperor, our lord and savior, our light and hope,"_ he started.

"Hear us now as we enter the fray," the others chanted in harmony.

"Fix bayonets!" a Cellian officer shouted from afar.

" _Those who stand against you,"_

"Shall met your holy wrath,"

The heart raced.

" _We are your mighty hammer,"_

"And we will crush them under our feet,"

The grip on the weapons tighten.

" _Look after us as we stride through the battlefield,"_

"And receive those of us who fall upon it,"

The mind emptied of superfluous thoughts.

" _Grant us victory on this day,"_

"So your enemies know defeat,"

Mortar fire whistled above their heads, deploying covering smoke.

" _And if that is not your will,"_

"Forgive us for the sins that taint us,"

The artillery fell silent.

" _And let our sacrifice atone our souls."_ all chanted in unison.

* * *

 _ **Fort Epsilon-004**_

 _ **Somewhere in the main command building**_

He ran as fast as legs allowed him. Through the barely lit hallways, dashing to avoid the fallen debris, the wounded moaning in pain and the dead that littered the floor. The ferocious battle outside could still be clearly heard, even this deep inside the structure: the ever present crackle of las and heavy bolter fire, the roar of mighty engines, the symphony of the artillery batteries. But he ignored those sounds, his assignment was more important than whatever has happening outside. He continued making his way to the inner sanctum of the complex, to deliver his message.

"My Lord!" he spoke arriving at his destination struggling to catch his breath "The Imp…. the Imper…"

"Calm yourself, guardsmen." the imposing dark figure that stood before him proclaimed in a low, deep, grave pitch and condescending tone that echoed through the entire chamber.

"Please forgive me, my Liege. The Imperials are beginning their attack. Approaching from the East. Supported by armor. Artillery covering their advance." the renegade guardsmen reported.

"Anything else?" the figure inquired in the same tone.

"Yes. There are also Inquisition forces outside, preparing for something." the guardsmen continued.

"Thank you. You may return to your post." he said dismissing the guardsmen.

"As you will." the soldier turned around and went the way he came.

"So, they have at last come, just like you said they would. Then everything is falling into place I assume?" the voice of the also dark but slender and feminine figure, next to the first one, spoke.

"Yes, everything is proceeding as I knew. The attack from the West should come soon as well. He will come." the first figure spoke again. "Nevertheless, it weighs me that so many will have to give away their lives."

"The men were well aware that this was a death sentence since the beginning. And yet they still trusted you to lead them, to carry the plan to the end. You are their Saint are you not?"

The Saint let go a short laugh.

"I never understood why they bestowed that title unto me. Do they expect salvation from serving me?"

"You saved their lives once before. When despair took a hold in their minds and death was all they could hope for, you appeared before them. You stood tall and guide them to victory when defeat was a certainty. Men of lesser minds see miracles when great men guide them through the impossible. And…"

"And for that they were willing to turn their backs on the Imperium, be branded rebels and heretics, living on spare time. Time that I bought them. Is that your answer? And you, why do you walk along this treacherous path with me?"

"You know this already. My people still live in these unforgivable times, in no small part due to your actions. My loyalty, my faith and my life in your service is but a small token of the immeasurable debt we owe you." she retorted.

"I never requested any sort payment for my actions."

"Loyalty to one is earned by his actions, not asked for."

"Hah, perhaps… But, we shouldn't entangle ourselves in this kind of discussions. Not now. Our guests will soon arrive. Everything must be in place."

"Indeed. It will be quite a bang, won't it?"

"And quite a ride."

* * *

 _ **Fort Epsilon-004**_

 _ **Western Approach**_

"MOVE, MOVE, MOVE" the officers' shouts engulfed the entire area as the men stormed out of the trench, screaming as they marched onwards. Some cowered behind, but the commissars were swift in delivering punishment, discouraging any others from doing the same.

 _150 meters._

Smoke and dust quickly engulf them as they made their way through no-man's land. Visibility was poor; breathing was difficult; the terrain, uphill and filled with craters, was hard to transverse. The terrain inclination and the sound of several yelling men was the only thing that managed to guide them straight to the enemy.

 _100 meters._

Mortal shells started falling around them. Imprecise; thrown wildly; managed to hit some unlucky souls; their dying screams contrasting with those of the others still running.

 _50 meters._

Visibility improved and so did the enemy's accuracy and frequency of fire. The sprint uphill started to take its toll on the guardsmen's stamina, who nevertheless still continued on, through a rain of death and dirt.

 _30 meters._

Buzzing streaks of light and slugs cut down several dozen men as they frantically tried to dodge them. Many exploded in a shower of gore, soaking those next to them; others fell to the ground covered with burning holes, crying in agony. Moving from crater to crater, hoping to avoid the incoming fire, their advance slowed down making them easy pickings for the artillery.

 _15 meters._

He could now clearly see the rebels' trenches and the pillboxes from where the heavy bolter, autocannon and multi-laser fire originated. Small arms las fire now joined the cacophony. Men died in droves; many hesitated, stuck between the renegade's fire and their commissar's in the back. Some fired wildly in the general direction of the enemy hoping to hit something, rarely succeeding.

He stopped in a moderately covered crater, getting on one knee and signaling to whomever, if anyone, was behind him to do the same.

 _Heavy weapon emplacement. Disperse and move from cover to cover._

With his left hand, he signaled the instructions, almost instinctively, as they took shape in his head. He took a deep breath and raised his hand, waiting for an opportune moment. The finals meters would be the hardest, to say nothing of the fighting still ahead. Another deep breath. He gave signal.

 _Go!_

* * *

 _ **Fort Epsilon-004**_

 _ **Eastern Approach**_

General Sigorn could be described as a rash man. The men of the 1st Cellian Armored Regiment, however, unanimously considered that designation to be a very gross understatement of their General's personality. Not only had he single-handedly raised the world's very first armored regiment, shortly after the revolt broke out, he acquired (or as the tech-priest overseers put it: stole) most of its vehicles by repurposing several mining equipment, adding as much weapons and armor plates as humanly possible.

At the moment, such nature was being demonstrated as he led the assault on the fort in one of the regiment's few Leman Russ battle tanks. Or to put it more accurately, he was standing atop the turret of said tank, which he personally modified by adding a mining drill to its front and several sentences of profanity painted all over. It remained a mystery how had he managed to stay alive after pulling the same stunt every time he conducted an assault, but the Emperor seemed kind enough to allow such spectacle to carry on, as such recklessness seemed to inspire his men to follow him with greater vigor than any other officer could muster.

"Come on you dogs! Up the hill! Up the hill!" brandishing his power sword, he pushed his men on. He nearly lost his equilibrium when his tank fired a round against an enemy nest. Unfazed, his barking continued "They burnt our cities! They killed our comrades! They spit in the Emperor's name! Today these motherfuckin heretic son-of-a-bitches DIE!"

He let out a primal scream which was responded in kind by his men.

Tank shells smashed against the dirt, shrapnel eviscerated bodies; hellhounds (or rather mining trucks using blowtorches with promethium tanks attached to them) scorched the trenches to ash; mounted turrets cut down fleeing infantry; bayonets plunged into whoever was stupid enough to survive any of those. Sigorn and the 1st Armored made good progress towards the center of fort, the rebel's defenses quickly being decimated under the vigorous assault.

The enemy retaliated to best of its ability, several of the makeshift vehicles becoming burning husks as they were hit by krak rockets and autocannon fire and dozens of guardsmen dropping dead on the slope. But momentum of the attack could not be stopped and it wasn't before long that the rebel's found themselves defending the entrance to the main bunker.

Seeing themselves as sitting ducks out in open with all that armor coming down on them, they hastily moved inside hoping that the tight hallways within would slow down the incoming imperials. That hope quickly died down as even without their vehicles the men of the 1st Armored Regiment didn't lose any of the impetus displayed before. Sigorn, as always, lead them from the front after jumping down from the turret he was standing in, cleaving some poor bastard in two in the process, while the rest of the tanks pumped the entryway with HE rounds and burning promethium.

"Those vermin filled rats think their little pisshole can save them, bwahahaha! Smoke them out! No heretic leaves this place alive!" Sigorn rallied his regiment has they stormed the entrance.

* * *

 _ **Fort Epsilon-004**_

 _ **Western Approach**_

Disregarding the buzzing streaks of light and slugs passing dangerously close, the Krieger rushed out of cover to sprint the final meters, gracefully evading the hissing bolter rounds that slammed into the ground around him. As the heavy weapon emplacements targeted him, the rest of the men were able to follow suit and advanced towards the enemy's positions, while he lay down on the ground waiting for the enemy to shift their focus onto them before getting up and continuing on. Little by little, the guardsmen managed to get closer and closer to the trenches, frantically zigzagging to avoid the las fire bearing down on them.

He was the first to reach the trench, sliding into it simultaneously kicking one the renegades in the face, stabbing him in the chest with his bayonet before he could do anything else. The renegade's companions on both sides promptly turned their weapons to the Krieger while he tried to pull out the bayonet from his chest. Impulsively, he threw the wounded renegade, into the one on the left, by leveraging him with the rifle and then kicking him, causing the other renegade to fall under the weight of the body, and then quickly ducked, barely avoiding a las shot, before turning right and shooting the other one, still surprised that he missed him. Holding his rifle vertically, he turned around, using the circular motion to deflect a thrusting blow against him, and uppercutted the attacking rebel with the butt of the weapon and then hitting him again in the temple.

With the dazed renegade quickly put down like the vermin he was, the Krieger scanned his surroundings, noticing he was near one the pillboxes firing upon the rest of the men. But before he could plan how to take it out, he noticed two renegades exiting it and, rather than making for cover, he rushed towards them hoping to catch them by surprise. As they turned one the trenches' corner, he rammed the traitor taking point against the wall, bayoneting him at the same time, subsequently smacking the, now lunging, second one in the head with his trench shovel. Before he could recover, the Krieger plunged the shovel into the renegade's neck, severing it, blood splattering his gas mask and greatcoat while the rebel's body, leaned against the wall, twitched.

He took a deep breath and once again took notice of his surroundings and situation: he hadn't seen any of his men nor the Cellians so far and the heavy weapons teams still had to be taken down. Once again, his thoughts were cut short when the sound of heavy breathing coming from behind him spurn him into action as he prepared his shovel (presently the only weapon in hand) to attack the new foe.

"Wait! Wait! Wait! I'm on side! I'm on your side!" the Krieger stopped short of decapitating the man screaming in panic. Said man was a Cellian guardsman with an utter expression of terror in his face, bleeding profusely from his right arm and leg, his green khaki uniform and light grey flak armor stained red in those areas, occasionally groaning in agony while clutching his wounds with his left hand.

"Pppp… pp… private Balian! 3rd Company!" the man, still in panic, gave his name, rank and unit trying to further convince the masked man that we was his ally.

"Your squad?" the Krieger inquired as he retrieved his rifle from the dead renegade he stabbed moments ago.

"Either dead or pinned down by enemy fire a dozen meters down the hill. Decon and Rodriguez also tried to move forward but they were cut down halfway to the trench. I was lucky, they only got my arm and leg, heh." he groaned again due to his injuries.

"What are we supposed to do now? They can't advance with all those heavy weapons firing at them." he asked the masked guardsman who was observing the same pillbox as before, after he took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself.

"Can you throw?" the Krieger questioned.

"Throw?" Balian was somewhat surprised by the manner he questioned him "Hmmm, if you mean if I can use my left arm, then yes I can. The right leg isn't half as bad as the arm so I can accompany you as well."

"Move." the Krieger didn't shout, but the authority that radiated from his voice could make the guardsman follow him even if the enemy had torn off both his legs.

* * *

 _ **Fort Epsilon-004**_

 _ **Inside the Command Bunker**_

The noises of battle filled the multiple claustrophobic corners and corridors, as Sigorn and his men made their way deeper inside the complex, systematically butchering any opposition encountered in vicious close-quarter firefights. Then, suddenly, all went quiet. All the resistance had, apparently, died down much to the surprise and anxiety of the general, who knew too well that the ominous silence around him meant something wasn't right.

"Eyes wide open lads. The rats can be hiding anywhere." To the general this situation had 'Trap' written all over it. Caution, for once, was necessary. And so, despite the feeling of unease, they made their way deeper within the complex looking to find more enemies or, better yet, their comrades in the 4th.

"How big is this damn place?" one of the men grumbled, irritated. They were walking for several minutes now and hadn't even reached the center of the complex, nor find any signs of the enemy. Contrary to what it looked outside, the structure was much bigger on the inside, stretching several hundred meters underground, it's hallways built like an intricate maze forcing the men to spilt up to cover all possible ground. The disquiet grew as the feeling of loneliness crept in and the lights went increasingly dim and the only sound they could hear at this point was their own breath and footsteps, which made them snap at the slightest sound.

Eventually, Sigorn and his entourage emerged within one enormous, poorly lit and threateningly quiet hall, immediately starting to scan the area with the flashlights hardwired to their helmets, searching every nook and cranny for something. Judging by the number of spotlights, traveling along the lustrous adamantium walls, Sigorn estimated he had at least two dozen men with him. The hall itself was dominated by large cylinder-shaped pylon, several meters high, built right in the center of the dome shape area, surrounded by suspended platforms and several generators linked by power cables to the top of the column. More disturbing however was the seemingly alien look of the structure, in addition to the several faint glowing purplish lines that formed intricate patterns and symbols all along it, which further preoccupied the already distraught Sigorn.

 _What in the Emperor's holy name is that?_ whatever worrying thoughts he had were cut short when one the men suddenly shouted.

"Movement! Right top platform!" the squad immediately turned their heads around, focusing their flashlights on the platform. Nothing.

"Footsteps! On the left!" another one cried out, briefly catching something in his ear, causing the same reaction from the squad, and the same result.

"By the Emperor, will someone give me an accurate locat…" a frustrated Sigorn interrupted himself after he noticed the distinctive sight of nearly thirty gun barrels pointing directly at them from the balcony directly in front.

Only now did Sigorn understand the extremely precarious situation he led himself into: there was absolutely no cover close by and the enemy had a clear shot at them. There was no escape.

"Hah…" Sigorn laughed ironically at his impending doom "Nicely done, you fucking rats."

* * *

 _ **Fort Epsilon-004**_

 _ **Western Approach**_

The intermittent sound of las and bolter fire could be heard coming from inside, as both he and Balian hugged the next to the entrance of the pillbox. To the private's surprise, the Krieger holstered his rifle on his back after handing him one of his stick grenades.

"Pull, three count, throw. Understand?" Balian could only nod in agreement while the masked guardsman took out an oddly shaped short blade from his belt, in addition to the trench shovel already in hand.

"Emperor, let none escape your wrath." he silently prayed just as the private pulled the pin and started counting to three. With his good arm, Balian hurled the grenade inside as far as he could, quickly stepping back from the entry afterwards, noticing the alarmed yells when the rebels within heard the distinct sound of a grenade landing near them, and then detonating. The smoke from the blast hadn't even cleared the entrance when the Krieger rushed inside, strange blade and shovel in both hands, and vanished into the badly-lit structure. In the few seconds that followed the only thing Balian heard was the sound of struggle, of metal meeting flesh and, ultimately, the renegades' agonizing screams, as the masked man slaughtered whoever survived the explosion.

"Cleared. Move." the rigid tone of the Krieger voice echoed from the now empty pillbox and the private hastily obeyed his orders. Pausing briefly inside of it, he gazed upon the carnage: arms, legs and torsos scattered around the floor (some scorched black), blood dripping from the ceiling and, worst of all, the shear look of terror and pain stamped on the corpses shredded faces. He continued shortly thereafter, in part because he didn't want to stare at that horror show for any longer, but mostly because he didn't want to make the man responsible for all of that wait.

He marched through the passage leading to the next bunker, passing several dead rebels along the way, where the Krieger, even more stained in blood than before, waited for him near the entryway.

Pull, count, throw.

"Emperor, let none escape your wrath." another emplacement was silenced.

Like a machine, he repeated the same steps.

"Emperor, let none escape your wrath." another emplacement was silenced.

No hesitation, no mercy, just righteous bloodshed.

"Emperor, let none escape your wrath." another emplacement was silenced.

All struggle was in vain, for he was an instrument of his will.

"Emperor, let none escape your wrath." another emplacement was silenced.

His enemies died. All was well.

They only stopped when several other Krieger grenadiers and Cellian guardsman emerged from the next emplacement they were moving to, having cleared it themselves. Balian had lost count of how many emplacements they took out and, looking behind him, he saw the fruits of their labor. No longer held back by heavy weapon fire, the entirety of 3rd Company surged forward and overwhelmed the remaining defenders, silencing the mortar fire and quickly capturing the paths leading to the main stronghold, where the surviving renegades converged. The guardsman sat down, exhausted and in pain now that the adrenaline running through his veins rapidly dissipated, whereas the Krieger gathered his grenadiers to prepare for the final push, not even resting one second.

"You're a hard man to catch up with." Captain Solomon approached the Grenadier, power sword in one hand and las pistol in the other, panting heavily after chasing him through the trenches, having personally witnessed his handy work.

"The trenches here are already cleared and the rest of the regiment should join us momentarily. All that's left is the main bunker. Care to take point?" he cordially invited the Kriegsmen to take the lead as they stormed the last remaining strongpoint.

* * *

 _ **Fort Epsilon-004**_

 _ **Inside the Command Bunker**_

Despite the renegades best efforts, the gate soon fell to combined might of his Krieg Grenadiers and the men of the 4th Cellian Regiment who had relatively little problem in brushing aside the hurriedly prepared defense and pouring into the complex, cutting down any fleeing rebel. According to Solomon, General Sigorn's last transmission indicated that he and his men were also in the interior of the bunker, looking for the enemy or to link up with them. However that message was sent several minutes ago, and the quietude coming from the other end of the vox channel didn't bode well for the Captain or himself, and, just like it happened to the General, enemy resistance seemingly vanished entirely after a few skirmishes in the hallways.

Undeterred, the Grenadiers, accompanied by Solomon and a dozen or so guardsmen, made their way to the underground levels, through the same type of maze like corridors Sigorn had to transverse earlier, constantly making sure there was cover nearby, double-checking every spot, on the lookout for an ambush. After wandering the labyrinth of corridors for more than 10 minutes they reached the central part of the bunker were they were immediately greeted by the presence of the ominous glowing pillar in the center.

"What is that thing?" for the first time, both his and Solomon's thoughts were in synch.

The Krieger signaled his men to take cover behind the several stacks of crates spread all around them and to start sweeping the area with flashlights, to get a better view of the surroundings. The other guardsmen followed their lead and did the same.

"Any idea to what we are dealing with here?" Solomon asked, looking for the more experienced soldier opinion.

 _Warp related? Definitely._ he had felt the same sensations currently crawling through his (and everybody else's, for that matter) skin years ago. _Purpose? Unknown._ but it certainly wasn't anything good.

"I don't know." he replied, "We should proceed with extreme caution."

"Right. These kinds of things are for the Inquisition to deal with anyway. We must focus on finding Sigorn and his men."

"I'm afraid the General won't make it." a deep voice reverberated throughout the hall.

Automatically, every guardsman pointed their weapons at to the source of the sound, a tall dark figure looming straight ahead. Illuminating the figure with flashlights, they saw it was a tall grey-haired man, his back facing them, completely covered in a black cape, adorned with a strange symbol stamped on the back. Solomon gradually approached the caped man, las pistol pointed at his head all the time, flanked by the Krieger who also aimed his rifle at the man.

"Identify yourself." Solomon demanded.

"I'm your objective." the figure responded with an unnerving tranquility.

"You're the rebel leader?"

"Yes." the rebel responded to a dumbfounded Solomon's question.

Solomon forcefully pulled down the barrel of the Krieger's gun, who, upon hearing this, was preparing to shot the heretic straight away.

"Wait, not now. He still has much to answer yet." Solomon tried to assert his command over the grenadier.

"If he's the arch-heretic, then the only thing he should give us is the satisfaction of his death." the Krieger raised his voice to protest against such a foolish decision.

"Soon enough, but for now I still have questions. So stand down guardsman! That's an order!"

He could only grunt at the captain's stubbornness to not just execute that man immediately, but he had to begrudgingly obey since his rank made him his superior.

"If you're really their leader, then where are the other rebels? And what in Emperor's name is that thing supposed to be?" Solomon turned his attention once again to the man in front of him, pointing at the gleaming column at the same time.

"My associates are here, somewhere. As for the device, well, you might have a chance of seeing it work very shortly." the man replied, still unusually calm given the situation.

"Cut the crap heretic and answer me! Where are your men!? What does that pillar do!? And what happen to Sigorn!?" Solomon snapped at him, losing his temper.

 _Shoot him, you fool! He's clearly buying time for something._ the Krieger gritted his teeth at the demonstration of incompetence his associate was displaying.

"The General's enthusiasm for killing my men was fairly entertaining, but alas it had to come to an end." he informed.

"Son of a bitch." the captain gasped, processing Sigorn's death.

"Now, now Captain Solomon. You know quite well that, with the stunts the man was so fond of pulling off, he was bound to run out of luck eventually." the heretic retorted.

"How in the holy golden throne do you know who I am!?" the shock was visible on the Captain's face. "Did you tap our communications?"

"It would be unnecessary. This whole scenario, the sights, the sounds, the smells, the taste, the touch… the rush of battle… all of it. I have already experience it. I still remember." he replied in a prophetic manner.

"I don't care about any misguided visions you had, heretic. What's your goal? What do you expect to accomplish? Answer me!" Solomon snapped once more, recovering from the shock.

"Whatever answer I might give, it will soon be irrelevant. You are here. Right now, that's of more importance." he assured him.

"How so?"

"Every preparation, every movement, every battle, all of it was made so you could stand here. This whole life just for this moment."

"As hard as that may be for delusional scum like you, speak some damn sense already!" the man merely chuckled at Solomon's frustration before continuing.

"I designed this entire scenario. For you see, I could have easily conquered this planet had I chosen to; the men you fought to reach me, after all these months, are merely a fraction of those who swore loyalty to me. The rest are out there, waiting for my orders."

"If it wasn't to conquer Cellas, then what was the purpose of this rebellion?" the Captain's curiosity was rising after hearing the man's words.

"By keeping the rebellion at a level where the local forces could contain it but not defeat it, additional troops from other systems would have been necessary in tipping the scale to your favor. Being sufficiently insignificant, your planet wouldn't warrant the deployment of a sizeable force to retake it, so Segmentum Command had to choose a small number of nearby units that could assist the planet's own regiments. The fortifications you had to transverse, and that I personally oversaw the creation of, made that choice simple enough. This is why they were the ones to come to your aid. This is why the man standing next to you is with us in this instant, just as planned."

"Everything? You turn our home into a warzone; burn our cities to the ground; corrupt the faithful with your foul heresy; kill Emperor knows how many good men and women; and all of it, ALL OF IT just so you can settle a score with the fucking Kriegers!?"

"You misunderstand me, Captain. I have no ill will against the Korps, or against any other servant of the Emperor for that matter. I just needed your friend to be here. You and the others are irrelevant in this scenario." he reassured him.

 _He needs me, for what purpose? No, focus! He's just distracting Solomon by casting doubts in his mind, exploring his hesitancy. His words have no more meaning than the ramblings of a madman._

"I'm sure he's flattered." Solomon sarcastically remarked "But this is over!"

"Are you going to shoot me?" he inquired.

"You 'still remember' what's happening here." the Captain smirked "Why don't you tell me?"

"Indeed." the heretic laughed again, as if reminding himself of something amusing "All of us will lay dead. All, but two. I am one of them."

"Wrong!" the guardsman screamed "You won't leave this place alive."

"I will." he guaranteed.

Just then, several armed figures emerged the suspended walkway above, all aiming their weapons at the men behind Solomon and the Krieger, the former of whom recognized the mistake he had just made, cursing himself for his stupidity. His conversation with the rebel leader only served as a distraction until his men moved into position. Despite being behind solid cover, the Cellians and the Grenadiers were still in a clear disadvantage, considering the enemy outnumber them and had the higher ground.

"I'm afraid this is the end, Captain."

"Maybe, but you and I will face the Emperor's justice together." Solomon defiantly told him.

Taking the statement as his cue, the Krieger squeezed the trigger to blow the heretic's head off, when he was abruptly hurled across the room, hitting the wall and crashing down on some crates, diverting Solomon's attention from the arch-heretic in front of him.

"You shouldn't avert your eyes when the enemy is standing right next to you." these were the last words the Captain heard, just as the enemy leader pressed his pistol to the left side of his forehead and pulled the trigger.

With a vicious gun battle between both sides now drowning the area with sound, the masked guardsman, still lying down, shook his head and, brushing off the sharp pain in his lower back, again took aim at the heretic, who had just executed Solomon, only for his rifle to be taken off his hand by the same force that hurled him just moments ago. That force, he could now see (albeit barely), was coming from a humanoid female xeno, shrouded in a sickly bluish violet light. She extended her left arm and raised him off the ground by his throat with her powers, chocking him at the same time. Struggling to free himself, as the witch grasped his neck tightly, his vision grew dim as the heretic, who emanated an equally unnatural red glow from his face, approached him:

"Like I told the Captain; two will survive. Do not resist."

"I'll stop when you die." the Krieger groaned, desperate for air.

"Hah, such bravado. Yes, I also remember that."

The pillar suddenly grew brighter, illuminating the dark hall, with purple arcs of lightning beginning to form all around it as the foundation of the complex itself began to shake violently.

"And so it begins. Our time is over." the heretic turned around and began to walk away towards the pillar "But, know this, son of Krieg: To protect the flock…" the grip on the neck strengthen, his consciousness slipping away "…the shepherd will need his hounds."

Darkness.


	2. Contact

_**? ? ?**_

"Da.. .t! H… .. ….g, t..e … …. .ff!"

 _Where…?_ He felt the cold metallic floor caressing his cheek, his mask removed from his face. His sense of touch was, apparently, the only one that wasn't fully dormant at the moment.

"..t h.. .. … m…c .ay …! ..ll Cha…s .. .ave a w… ..re."

 _Where am I?_ Two individuals lifted him by the arms and carried him somewhere. His body was like a ragdoll, his strength having abandoned him.

"Cl… … .ay!"

 _What happened?_ His hears rang loudly. Several voices could be heard, almost like coming from the end of a tunnel.

"..w .s h., ...ara?"

"Th. ..mit …. t. .is .ungs, .. hav. .. …ry."

 _An elevator?_ they sat him down by a wall, holding his head high to examine him. Three shadowy figures filled his vision, contrasting sharply with the brightness of the room. _Who are they?_

".ut .. th. .ay .eo…, … o. t.e wa.!"

 _The heretic! Is he here!?_ the lift stopped and he was dragged a dozen or so meters until he was laid down on a soft surface. _A bed?_

"He.. …ing ar…d. ….k, se…e ..m."

 _No! I must find him, before…_ What shiver of consciousness left on him, quickly fled away as he felt the distinct sensation of a needle piercing his right arm. He was engulfed by the darkness again.

* * *

 _ **Imperial Navy Transport "White of Dark"  
In orbit above Cellas Prime  
Segmentum Pacificus**_

 _ **840.M41**_

 _ **Observation Deck**_

Hate.

Looking down at that insignificant grey piece of rock he had fought to liberate for half a year, he couldn't fell anything but contempt. The entire campaign had been a tiresome chore; inept officers, undisciplined and poorly trained troops, poor logistical support, lack of coordination between units, poor battlefield management, backroom politics; Cellas seemed to offer everything he despised. Little to no wonder that the Cellian regiments, fat and lazy virtue of being tasked solely with escorting mineral ore convoys up until the start of the debacle, needed their help so urgently. Worse still, he had fulfilled his job, winning a battle that should have been easily and quickly won in the first place, only to be retained here, where he was of no use anymore, when he could be fighting enemies more worthy of his resources.

But perhaps it was simply his bad-temper acting up; it was one of those days where fate seemingly conspired to annoy him in every little way possible; from accidently spilling his hot drink on his lap to his mask felling particularly uncomfortable today. Still, he was a soldier, a Korpsman no less, and a soldier let neither his bad humor nor lack of luck cloud his judgment nor ponder about the validity of his assignments. So long as those who contest the Emperor's divine will met their untimely and deservedly end, it would be sufficient.

Nevertheless, he would allow himself to hate the planet itself until he found something else to loathe; for hate is his greatest weapon, and he wouldn't want it to become rusty.

"It's been two months. Are you still fuming over it?" a stifled, but still distinctively female voice, came from behind him, intermingled with the sounds of footsteps.

"Why yes Lieutenant Colonel, I still am. Aside from the daily drills and inspections, there are very little thing else to do while we wait for the next assignment. Prayers to the Emperor notwithstanding." he responded.

"You forgot constantly filing requests to Segmentum Command about our next deployment schedule." she added, reminding him of another one of his habits, "But yes, I can understand your frustration. More so, since the ship's captain doesn't want tanks moving around in his cargo hold, I can't even pass the time by honing my men's proficiency."

"Weren't you a Krieger, I would think that you were trying to make fun of me with that first remark, lieutenant."

The woman, now standing by his side, was Lt. Colonel Anna Essing of the 7th Armored Regiment, wearing her distinctive dark green heavy greatcoat, tall riding boots, cavalry saber and silver breastplate (alongside the other typical officer's gear), that, at first glance, made her look like a Death Rider rather than a tank commander. He had known her for several years now, somehow managing to get deployed in the same battlefields as her time after time, and knew first hand of her capabilities as a field commander, having mutually assisted one another multiple times. In fact, working alongside her was one of the few things he could appreciate during the whole mess in Cellas Prime, and she seemed to share his frustrations with their present lack of combat activity, a testament to her commitment to the Emperor's cause in his eyes.

"Interpret it has you which, I assure you I'm not. "

"Naturally." he reassured her "Now, might I ask what made you seek me? Or you just happen to have had the same thought as mine and decided to pass the time observing the lustrous globe of rock beneath us." he sarcastically emphasized the 'lustrous' part.

"Need I remind you that cynicism isn't a good trait to have in a Korp's officer. As for your question, Lord General Falke wishes to see both of us."

"Best we make haste then. With any luck, it will be the last time we have to see this Emperor forsaken planet."

* * *

 _ **15 minutes later**_

 _ **Barracks**_

The barracks were bustling with activity by the time both officers arrived. The men and women of the 32nd Infantry, the Lord General's personal regiment, were busy performing routine equipment maintenance while others moved and distributed supplies around or simply standed still, waiting for the next order. Captains, accompanied by their subordinate watchmasters, vigorously inspected their companies' troops to uphold the high quality standards of the Korps, whilst several preachers conducted improvised sermons, filling the air with even more clamor. Whatever their activity was, they would stop and salute the two officers as they passed by, on their way to the Lord General's quarters, which doubled as his headquarters of sorts.

"My lord, Lt. Colonel Essing and Col…" upon arriving, one of the guards standing near the entrance to his 'office' announced their presence to the General.

"Send them in, guardsman. And close the door once they're inside." the general instructed the guard from inside the room.

They stepped in to find Falke perusing over the multitude of reports that littered his makeshift table, made from a discarded supply crate, not even acknowledging the two officers. We wore the typical Mark IX with a golden Imperial Aquila embellishing it, common amongst officers, alongside his dark grey blue greatcoat, buttoned up to his neck, that hid the rest of his uniform except for his ivory gloves and black boots. Once finished with the few reports in hand, he finally turned his attention to the individuals that currently shared the closed room with him.

In many ways, Lord General Volker Falke was the pinnacle of Krieg mentality towards war. While not the most imposing of man, physically speaking, his sheer ruthlessness and prowess as a military commander more than made up for it, and his exploits were known throughout the entire Korps. Other regiments, which fell under his command, were quickly acquainted with his reputation, as the Cellians were via an average 75% casualty rate amongst their combat regiments. But he didn't sacrifice men aimlessly and foolhardily; each campaign, each battle, each loss was meticulously calculated and pondered so as to inflict the greatest damage possible to enemy's forces; squandering the Emperor's soldiers wasn't tolerable. This principle, combined with the Korps doctrine of unshakeable willingness to sacrifice, proved to be exceptionally lethal against any foe unlucky enough to face him. Prove of that was the mere 6 months it took to vanquish a well motivated, entrenched and trained enemy, with minimal losses, by Krieg standards, when most optimistic estimations would put it at least five times that value.

"Gentlemen, I'm pleased to report that we won't be prolonging our stay on this system for much longer. Barring any delays with the fleet, we should leave within a day or two." he announced it in the dreary tone he always spooks with.

"It only took two months. I'm impressed by such a rare display of good sense on their part." the scorn is his words have very noticeable.

"Patience is a Praetorian quality, is it not, Colonel-Commissar Radec?" Falke reminded him.

"Yes, it is. Except half a year dealing with incompetent fools, that can't even properly defend their own planet, plus 8 weeks sitting around doing little, because THEY won't let us leave, are taking its toll on mine, General."

"While your eagerness to carry out your duty is commendable, such displays of discontent towards them only invite punishment, Colonel." he paused for a moment to let the warning sink in "And, given the circumstances, it's rather unusual for the Inquisition to retain us here for such a short amount of time. Thank the Emperor that we can resume his work with so little probation."

"And I do." he assured him "However, his foes still roam the stars, laying waste to His work, and we wait for some Inquisitional dog to stop fidgeting the dirt and gain his senses."

"The works of the Inquisition aren't for us to discern." Essing interrupted.

"But if they request that my best men partake in a specific assault, against an irrelevant fortification that, of all coincidences, happens to be the one where… THAT occurred, I would appreciate an explanation afterwards."

* * *

The Commissar still vividly remembered those events, two months ago.

From his command vehicle, a modified Centaur transport, he was busy coordinating the multiple formations under his direct command, while they assaulted the main enemy fortress. Radec didn't particularly enjoy having to stay in a crammed space where the only feedback he received from the battle, the constant shelling around him and occasional small arms fire aside, was the distorted vox chatter that filled the compartment. Long were his younger days, where, lacking his current rank, he was free to lead the men from the front, fully immersing himself in battle, feeling the joy of granting the Emperor's punishment to his foes by his own hands. But sentiments of nostalgia were a waste of his time. Has much as he desired to be in the heat of battle at the time, his commanding status, as head of the 77th Siege Regiment, made him responsible, first and foremost, for assuring his men success in the task at hand.

Then it happened.

An intense flash of light filled the entire horizon, instantly catching the attention of guardsmen and renegades alike, followed by the ground beneath them to begin to shake violently, as if a massive explosive had just been detonated. A colossal pillar of purple light then rose up in the distance, visibly tearing, even from the distance the Colonel was at, massive chunks of rock from the planet's crust, which would float upwards a couple hundred meters before seemingly disintegrating. The battlefield went silent as men and women observed the bizarre spectacle unfolding, the Colonel himself stepped out of his vehicle to better observe it. An eerie atmosphere settled in, causing his blood to freeze as he remembered what occurred the last time he had felt this chill running through his body, nearly 20 years ago.

But the biggest oddity is what came next. As the purple light dissipated, he was bombarded by vox chatter telling the renegades were surrendering in mass all over the perimeter; some even marching down from the main bulwark to submit themselves to the guardsmen. Radec's first instinct was to simply order the execution of every single one of the heretics; this had to be a ruse, some insidious ploy; he was sure of it. But before he could give the command, his Inquisition attaché intervened, voxing in to tell the Colonel the Inquisition would need the renegades alive for interrogation, much to his chagrin.

As the prisoners were escorted out of the field, as per the Inquisition's orders, he managed to pull one of them, some kind of officer, aside, by the collar of his uniform.

"What's your plan, heretic!? What made you give up all of a sudden!?"

"Our orders were only to fight until the signal was lit. No more guardsmen need to die." he violently threw the men to the ground, sticking his las pistol directly in his forehead. "What does that signal mean!? What does it do!?" he asked, threatening to shoot him.

"None of us know. Only the Saint does."

"Where is he then!? Where's the one who dared to spat in the Emperor's name!?"

"Your amateurish interrogation skills won't be able to pry any relevant information out of him, Colonel-Commissar. Best you leave that task to ones better suited for it." the Inquisitional attaché, a hunchback covered in a simple lavender robe that covered all but the disgusting grin on his face, approached him, breaking up Radec's impromptu questioning of the renegade. He begrudgingly let go of the rebel's collar and returned to his clean up duties, under his gaze the whole time.

Through Falke, he later found out more details about the incident that day. The pillar of light originated from somewhere beneath Fort Epsilon-004, carving a massive irregular shaped crater several meters deep into the ground, ruining most of the complex. Incidentally, this was the same fortification several squads of his best Grenadiers were sent to aid the Cellian's assault and, although strange, at first he didn't paid much attention to the Inquisition's request. Looking back, he felt ashamed of himself for being so naive in regards to their intentions and couldn't help but feel infuriated by the veil of secrecy they dropped around the incident, particularly the fate of his men and the arch-heretic, who he assumed triggered the event.

* * *

"I would lie if I said I wasn't curious to what exactly went down there or why they asked for your Grenadiers, but you should comprehend you have no authority whatsoever to demand anything from the Inquisition, much less when matters of the foul Warp are involved." Falke pointed out.

"Oh, I comprehend perfectly. We are kept in the dark 'for our own good' right up until the moment when one of them screws up and unleashes Emperor knows what upon us. If we're about to face a daemonic incursion, some early warning would be adequate."

"If that was a possibility, they would've kept us on the ground. Whatever they're trying to find down there seems more valuable than our lives." she noted.

"Maybe so, but all of this can't be a coincidence."

"We can continue this discussion later, gentlemen. As of now, we have other concerns to attend to." Falke stopped the argument, focusing on the reason they were there.

"Do we have word on our next deployment, then?" Radec interrogated.

"Yes, it happens to be our original one, before this detour. We're to link up with the 52nd Imperial Siege Army, currently defending the Gorgon III from the full brunt of an Ork assault."

"What's the present situation there?" Essing inquired.

"Unclear. The reports coming from the sector are vague at best, so we will have no solid intel until we reach our destination."

"ETA?" she asked again.

"Conservative estimates put Warp transit at about three weeks." he paused briefly, waiting for more questions, sitting back on his chair in the meantime. "Lacking any more questions, you may resume your regular duties. I expect the men to be more than capable to face what's coming ahead. Understood?" as experienced he and Essing were, it was still striking how Falke managed to impose himself so much with such a simple assertive question, without ever changing his monotonous tone.

"Yes, sir."

"Emperor protects." he tapped the left half of his chest with the side of his clenched right fist "Dismissed."

"Emperor protects." both officers mimicked the gesture and left the room.

None of them were prepared to what was about take place.

* * *

"Please take a seat, ma'am." he politely offered the chair in front of his desk.

"How long is this going to take?" she bluntly asked him, casting aside his politeness.

"We just need enough data to fill the form, it shouldn't take much time." he assured her.

"Then make it fast." she sat down, looking unpleased with the situation.

"Right… of course. Let me … just …hmm" he frantically taped the holographic buttons on his console for a couple of seconds, clearly anxious in her presence. "Ok. Let's begin. First things first; name?"

One could clearly tell by her face that the woman was visibly annoyed by the question, letting out a frustrated sigh, making the man behind the desk even more nervous "Is that really necessary?"

"S-s-sorry ma'am I know who you are. Hell everybody here knows, but I'm afraid it's required, even if it's a formality." he tried his best to appeaser her but she wasn't going for it. "So… again, name?"

Resigned she answered "Shepard, Jane."

 _ **The Citadel**_ _ **  
**_ _ **Serpent Nebula**_

 _ **June 24**_ _ **th**_ _ **, 2183 CE**_

 _ **Presidium**_

"Service number?"

"5923-AC-2826."

"Date and place of birth?"

"April 11th, 2154. Somewhere in the UNAS."

"Date of enlistment?"

"April 11th, 2172."

"Very well, Commander. Now we just have to go over your service record and we…"

"Whatever happened to 'it shouldn't take much time', private?" Shepard cut him off mid-sentence, further annoyed by the direction the interview was heading to.

"I'm sorry ma'am, this normally takes…" the startled clerk apologized, before being interrupted again.

"Oh, and while you're at it, remind me again why are we wasting our time doing this?"

"Like you've been briefed before, the Geth did a number on the Alliance's databanks digging for sensitive intel. Fortunately, we managed to sever the connection to our main servers in Vancouver before they could get anything of use. We have yet to reconnect them, since we're still performing a thorough sweep to check for any hidden foreign programs they may have uploaded, so we need these interviews to set up temporary profiles for security clearances." he reminded her.

"One week after the attack? I'm pretty sure if anyone wanted access to restricted areas, they would have done so after all this time." she pointed out.

"I really don't have a say on this ma'am. I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience, but I'm just trying to do my job."

"Then do it more efficiently, private!" she leaped from the chair, placed her hands on the table and stared deeply into the private's eyes "If you want my record, its much easier to go to the Extranet and search for 'The Skyllian Blitz' or, better yet, 'The Butcher of Torfan'. I'm sure you'll get ALL the information you need for that profile without bothering me any further."

The clerk could only watch, not being able to muster a single word, as Commander Shepard, heroine of the Citadel, stormed out of his small office, normally reserved for signing enlistment contracts for the Alliance's military.

 _I don't paid enough for this shit_. The poor man was left alone to his thoughts; most of the time he only had to deal with gung-ho teenagers looking for thrills and glory in some remote backwater of the galaxy, but Shepard was something else entirely. Her reputation for hating the bureaucracy well deserved indeed, to say nothing of her temper; the woman made a habit of openly disrespecting the Council and the Alliance's higher ups for getting in her away, and got to walk away scot free. Then again she managed to stop Saren, so he probably shouldn't be judging her personality; she got the job done, and in the end that's what people remember you for. In retrospect, given her record, maybe it was a good thing she left before he inadvertently piss her enough to make her shoot his head off.

* * *

Looking down on the Presidium Commons from the balcony near the embassies had a soothing effect on Shepard; whether it was losing the beacon on Eden Prime or some jackass politician locking away her ship, her anger seemingly dissipated whenever she gaze upon the stunning and lush landscape down below, rising sideways into the fake skies above. Of course this was another thing Saren and his cronies had to come and ruin. In the aftermath of his attack, the once shining and verdant scenery was replaced with a deplorable shade of scorched black and large quantities of debris, which several crews of laborers worked around the clock to remove. The first days were the worse; collecting and counting the corpses that littered the avenues; people collapsing on the ground, grieving over the deaths of their love ones; several thousand wounded filling the numerous campaign tents set to relieve the overcapacitated hospitals; shopkeepers trying to salvage their livelihood from the wreckage of their stores and counters; con-artists, looters and other parasites filling the streets, taking full advantage of the situation to make a quick profit; the overall melancholic atmosphere that settled in, as everyone tried their best to move on with their lives amidst the chaos and devastation around them.

But it could be worse. Hadn't she stopped Sovereign, the scenario would be much grimmer than it was and, without a doubt, the feeling of a job well done was the only positive thing she could take out of all of it. They had won. The Prothean's last act of defiance had bought them precious time to prepare for the inevitable Reaper invasion, and, from the moment she confronted Sovereign on Virmire, Shepard swore they wouldn't have it that easy this time around.

"Ah, Shepard. Still around? I though you would be halfway to Earth by this point." she turned around, recognizing Captain Anderson's voice.

"I would, but the boys upstairs HAD to come up with these stupid profile interviews in the exact day I'm suppose to leave. I bet they did this on purpose, just to ruin my plans."

"You overestimate their guts, Shepard. I pretty sure none of them has the balls to mess with the very first human specter in the galaxy." they both shared a short laugh. "Anyway, I take it by the look on your face that you already finish up everything you had to do here."

"Yeah, just waiting for Williams to wrap up her interview. Then it's off to Earth for some 'extended R&R on the merits of unprecedented heroism', as they like to call it."

"Given the stuff you pulled off, you and your crew more than deserves it, Commander. Speaking of which, what are they going to do now that the mission's over?"

"Well, for what I can gather most of the Alliance's personnel are going to spend R&R at home with their families or blowing their bonuses on some tourist trap. As for the non-Alliance part of the crew, Garrus is going to make a quick stop on Palaven to check on his family, Tali is going to return to the Migrant Fleet with the data we gathered in Solcrum, Liara is going back to Thessia to try to set up an archeological expedition to Ilos and Wrex… heck, how should I know what a several hundred year old krogan mercenary is going to do with his free time."

"So the old' gang is splitting up, going their separate ways."

"Looks like it." she paused briefly, remembering those who wouldn't get to enjoy the fruits of their victory "Wish Kaidan and Jenkins were among them."

"So do I Shepard. They were fine soldiers. It was a pleasure having them serve under me as I'm sure they were under you."

"Indeed they were. In a way, I should be glad they were the only ones that had to die to stop Saren. Something tells me that stopping the Reapers themselves is going to require much more sacrifices."

"You won't have to fight alone when that time comes, I promise. I'll do everything in my power to persuade the next Council to act on what you found."

"Persuade? Aren't the huge metallic talons shoved through their fucking offices proof enough that they should do something? And where was I thinking that getting rid of those idiots would be positive thing."

"I like to think that you chose to let the Ascension get destroyed out of necessity rather than your grudges against the Council, so please try not convincing me of otherwise. There were a lot of innocent civilians abroad that ship, Shepard."

"I'm aware of that now, and looking back maybe I did a poor choice. But what's done is done, and I don't feel an ounce of pity for those three, nor would I sacrifice anyone in the Alliance or my crew to protect them."

Anderson sighed heavily "Maybe we should change topic. I see we obviously disagree on this and frankly the Alliance doesn't need more bad publicity from its newest heroine saying these kinds of things. Just go and enjoy your vacation, Shepard. It will help you clear your head from this mess."

"Some vacation. The brass is having me tour the entire planet on some glorified recruitment drive, showing off their brand new toy to make all the little kids at home jealous. I swear if they make me pose for some goddamn pin-up holo I'm…" Shepard was well aware she had a sizeable fanbase and, like all fanbases, some of its members were more _devout_ than others. Reason why she never joined any social network of any kind nor typed her own name in a search engine, without some sort of filter, for fear she would end up with several charges of aggravated misuse of the Normandy's weapon systems on civilian targets.

Anderson couldn't help but to laugh to himself; intentional or not, Shepard's little quip effectively lighten up the mood. "Oh well, just be glad they're giving you that 'extended R&R' session, most of us these days don't have that luxury. There's a lot to clean up, whether it be debris or Geth."

"Shouldn't you get some rest as well? If it weren't for you I would still be stuck here."

"I spent enough time sitting around doing nothing in a prison cell, Shepard. Besides, punching Udina square in the jaw is more than an enough reward for my troubles."

"I can imagine."

"Argh!" once again, Shepard turned around, this time at the familiar sound of Lt. Ashley Williams.

"Hey Ash. Done already?"

"Yeah Shepard. Goddamn bureaucrats sticking their nose where they don't have any business to and… oh, Captain Anderson. Sorry, didn't see you there." she interrupted herself upon seeing Anderson, swiftly saluting the officer.

"That's okay Lieutenant, just having a quick chat with the Commander. Better get back to work, don't want to keep both of you from your well deserved relaxation any longer."

"Thank you, Captain. Me and the Skipper best be on our way to the Normandy as well."

"Then I'll see you when you get back. Good luck." exchanging handshakes with both of them, Anderson left the balcony, towards one of the many elevators nearby, no doubt heading towards the Alliance's offices which Shepard and Ashley just came from.

"So Skip, ready to see what saving the galaxy entitles in terms of stress relief?"

"You betcha. God knows, I need some after all of this."

* * *

 _ **5 minutes later**_

 _ **SSV Normandy**_

[-[Decontamination in progress. Decontamination in progress.]-]

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you finish the interview so early?"

"Simple. I yelled at the clerk until he left me alone." _Although, in hindsight, maybe I was a bit too harsh on him._

"How come when I try doing that I end up with a disciplinary caution on my ass and you don't? Do I have to take out a renegade specter before I get any of those privileges?"

[-[Commander Shepard is abroad. XO Presley stands relieved.]-]

"It's all about the presentation. You got to look the part." both soldiers step into the Normandy as the VI finished the painfully dull decontamination procedures.

"What!? You're telling me I don't look intimidating enough?"

"If you were, I already would be at Waikiki, surrounded by two hula girls while sipping a nice giant coconut." the resident ship comedian decided to join in the conversation by adding his oh so witty comment.

"Hawaii, Joker?" Ashley raised an eyebrow at the location, not expecting that from him.

"What can I say? I'm a fan of the classics. And I'm inviting most of my closest relatives to come along. It's going to be a big ol' family luau."

"Yeah, I would be a pity if you had to spend it at the local hospital, wouldn't it flyboy?" Ashley cracked her knuckles, not so suggestively telling Joker to withdraw that last statement about her.

"From what I heard the view is still quite nice and I would have a couple of pretty nurses looking after me. A heck of a vacation, if I can say so myself." he rebutted.

"You're helpless."

"And you love me for it, am I right?"

The banter between the lieutenants carried on, as Shepard made her down the bridge, towards the CIC. Following instructions, the Normandy was to be drop off at Arcturus Station for the duration of her leave, scheduled to undergo extensive repairs and an in-depth analysis of its systems, using the combat data gathered during the mission. Anxious to get her vacations started (and most certainly not the only one), Shepard made double time until she reached Navigator Pressly, currently finishing a chat with some of his direct subordinates.

"All set to go, Pressly?"

"Yes, Commander. Everyone is accounted for and ready, including the non-Alliance personnel, but…"

"But?" _Let me guess, another goddamn delay?_

"Admiral Hackett sent a message just before you arrived. He wants to speak with you privately in the Comm room."

"What is it about?"

"He didn't say, but, by the way it looks, it appears our shore leave will be postponed at least a tad longer, Commander."

 _Fan-fucking-tastic. The galaxy seems to get off at ruining my day._ Shepard could only frown at Pressly's news. "Better get this over then. The sooner, the better."

She made way to the communications room, where Hacckett awaited.

"This is Commander Shepard. Go ahead Admiral." she opened the comm. link as she entered the briefing room.

"Hackett here. Sorry for the inconvinient Shepard but we have a possible situation developing here."

"Its fine Admiral, you can proceed."

"Understood. Not an hour ago, the Silver Lance, a turian cruiser, picked up an unusual energy reading, in a small area of the outer nebula, while on patrol. Normally this type of occurrence would be classified as a sensor error and glanced over, but due to recent events the cruiser investigated the issue more thoroughly." the admiral began gradually describing the situation to Shepard.

"What did they found?"

"A small asteroid, roughly 250 meters in length, surrounded by a type energy field we have never detected, about a kilometer in radius. Furthermore, upon closer inspection, they found some sort of structure imbedded unto it, where they believe the strange energy originates from and, more alarmingly, that it was building up significantly." he continued.

"You think it's the Reapers?" she knew Sovereign's defeat would warrant a response by its comrades, but Shepard was somewhat surprised that they reacted so soon.

"I don't know, Commander, but at this stage we can't overlook such possibility. I need you and your team to go in and investigate the source of the field."

"Don't take the wrong way, sir, but why am I asked to do this? Shouldn't the turians be the ones doing the investigation since it was one of their ships that found the anomaly? Given the size of the complex, several of their strike teams would sweep it faster." she inquired, not so much because she wanted to go on with her vacations, but because she thought it was odd the turians would relay a mission like this to the Alliance.

"Undertaking such a large scale operation would surely attract attention from the media and, with the recent attack on the Citadel, their speculation could result in widespread panic from the civilian population. We need discretion in this matter. The Normandy's stealth capabilities and your expertise in dealing with the Reapers make you the best candidate for this task." the Admiral explained.

"Any idea of what I can expect in there?"

"Negative, Commander. The turians managed to draw a rudimentary schematic of the structure from their scanners, but we have nothing beyond that. I don't like it, but you will have to go in blind."

"Understood, Admiral."

"Good luck, Commander. Hackett out."

* * *

 _ **15 minutes later**_

 _ **Normandy's cargo hold**_

News of the little detour went as well as you can expect. The crew was consternated, their carefully planned week long schedules messed up by yet another delay, but most of them inevitably end up accepting the task ahead. The sole exception was Wrex, who was actually excited to get in on some action after a week of idleness, as one could expect from a krogan. Shepard and her team, along with a dozen or so marines, don their armors and readied the rest of their equipment, in anticipation for what was to come if the Reapers were really the ones behind the anomaly.

"ETA 5 minutes, Commander. We got a visual on the objective. You got to see this." everybody attention immediately focused on the small monitor tucked away in one of the corners of the hold, as it displayed an image of the asteroid they were heading for.

Most comments upon seeing it tilted towards _'My God'_ and _'Holy shit',_ and whatever the equivalent expression the alien's had. The mysterious force field resembled a storm cloud, with several instances of lighting to boot, and, despite its purplish red color, it somehow managed to contrast heavily with the surrounding nebula. The asteroid itself only appeared a large dark dot, like a black stain on a colorful piece of clothing, but event that managed to be unnerving.

"Goddess, what do you think we'll find?" Liara's curiosity peaked even higher, hoping to further discover more Prothean ruins no doubt.

"I highly doubt with will be something pleasant. Between the purple lighting and the looming dark rock, I say we're in for a very eerie experience." Garrus interjected with his usual cheery pessimism.

"What's the matter? Lost your stomach all of the sudden, turian?" Wrex joined in on the conversation, never resisting a chance to antagonize a turian.

"No, Wrex. I'm just concern we'll find something in there that will happily rip it out of my abdomen. I like it where it is." Garrus responded.

"Given the usual size of your kinds', I think it will be a tad bit unsatisfied afterwards. At least it will have a decent variety to pick from, he he."

"Keelah. As much I like jokes about our impending disembowelment, I pretty sure that place is menacing enough without you two coming up with that kind of stuff." Tali, not particularly enjoying the happy-go-lucky tone of the conversation, vented out.

"Aw, is the little quarian scared? Don't worry if the big mean scary monster shows up, you can hide behind me or even the turian over there."

"While I usually don't like being volunteered as living cover, I think might open an exception for you. Spirits forsake, you get a scratch on that precious suit of yours."

"Glad to see you're both in such a good mood. Bosh'tet." the last bit she uttered silently, not wanting to feed more wood to the fire, as Shepard would put it.

"All right, listen up!" Shepard raised her voice to catch everyone's attention. "Here's how we're going to proceed. The turians who discovered the rock managed to scan at least two pathways that, supposedly, lead to its core and whatever is generating the field. So we'll split up to cover all possible ground; Williams, Garrus and Tali will take one of them while Wrex, Liara and I take the other. Sergeant." she turned to one of the marines standing by "You and your men scan the other passages to see if you can find some clues on the origin of this anomaly or another route to the center. The rest will stay abroad to defend the ship against any possible threat that might slip past us. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am!" the entire room filled with the unisonous response.

"Good. I know you're anxious to get this over with, but be cautious out there and be prepared for anything. With any luck, we'll be going home before you know it."

* * *

 _ **Imperial Battleship "Heretic's Demise"  
In orbit above Cellas Prime  
Segmentum Pacificus**_

 _ **840.M41**_

Admiral Flavion Constantine was a busy man. The duties of an admiral of the Imperial Navy, His Holy Fleet, were numerous and time-consuming, and the grizzly old veteran of countless battles amongst the stars made sure to execute every single one of them with nothing short of perfection. Even now, as they waited to depart from the sub-sector, he found ways to keep himself occupied, mainly by roaming the vast networks of passageways of his flagship, scrutinizing every aspect that happened to reach his sight.

Eventually, one of his walks took him back to the ship's bridge, where a plethora of officers, transmechanics and servitors alike carried out their routine non-combat duties, which mostly entailed filling out a painstakingly high mountain worth of reports. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he prepared to resume his stroll across the vessel until one of his junior officers discretely signaled him from afar that he need to report something to him in private.

"Anything of urgent to report, lieutenant?" having followed his subordinate to a more quiet section of the large cupola room, the Admiral inquired him on the situation.

"Yes, my lord. It's about the assignment you charged me with."

"Very well, proceed then."

The lieutenant, a bald mild-aged short man with several metal prosthetics grafted unto his face, revealed some hesitation in continuing "Is it wise to discuss such matters here? They have eyes and ears everywhere and I'm not even sure that my caution has been sufficient."

"Most likely it wasn't, but, if the Inquisition wishes to interfere, rest assure that I will be the one to answer for this. So carry on."

"Thank you my lord." he leaned slightly bowed forward before resuming "Like you ordered, I had several of our cogitators tapping the vox channels the Inquisition made use of."

"What were your findings?"

"For the most part, it was just normal chatter between their ship and the ground crew at the site of the incident. But, in between them, I found out several… troubling conversations."

"Such as?"

"They regarded a certain device that was present at the site and the event that occurred there two months ago. They discussed if everything had gone without a hitch and if He had been successful."

"He? The leader of the rebellion that broke out on the planet? What's the Inquisition connection with him?"

"I'm not entirely sure, my lord. The nature of the dialogue never hinted at whom they were talking about exactly or what was their interest in that person. But, more disturbing than that, was the fact they talk about something else that was to come and if 'every piece was in place for it'."

The Admiral's mind immediately went to the present situation they found themselves in. The Demise and its escorts had arrived on the sub-sector twelve days ago, on route to the Segmetum fleet's rendezvous point, when they were contacted by the Inquisition and forced to make a detour to Cellas Prime for some unexplained reason. The Admiral expected to be briefed on why exactly they had been diverted, but every subsequent contact with the Inquisitorial ship had been met with silence or stern warnings not to leave the planet's orbit, under the threat of severe punishment. And apparently, he wasn't the only one in this position.

A multitude of ships filled the orbital plane of Cellas Prime, ranging from cargo vessels carrying food and water supplies from nearby agri-worlds to a sizeable contingent of military vessels, including half-a-dozen cruisers. Put it all together, the Inquisition had assembled what, in the Admiral's eyes, looked like an expeditionary fleet from some unknown purpose. Originally, he thought the Inquisition's were digging the site for clues on the whereabouts of the so called "Saint", if his memory of the reports he read was correct, and that the fleet was assembled to hunt him down and/or destroy his main base of operations. But the talks of an upcoming 'event' now shot that theory down, he feared whatever the Inquisition was going to throw at them was much more complicated than a simple heretic hunt.

"Admiral?" the lieutenant questioned the sudden silence from his superior.

"Hmm? Oh, just thinking to myself, lieutenant. Anything else?"

"Yes. This is why I had to speak with you right now. The vox traffic recently increased significantly and the Inquisition is hastily pulling out their team from the planet at this moment. If I can make an assumption, I say whatever they were waiting for is about to happen." he finished.

"I agree. Pass instructions, I want the ship combat-ready should anything come to pass. Alert every ship in the vicinity to do the same, but do it discretely. Go."

"Understood, my lord." the adjutant quickly left the admiral's side to relay his orders.

The Admiral was left alone, immersing himself again on his own thoughts. A plethora of scenarios run through his mind, and he simultaneously conjured up plans to best deal with each one of them. But he knew the Inquisition was anything but predictable. For that he prayed, because he knew that for whatever laid ahead none of his plans would suffice.

* * *

 _ **The Anomaly  
Serpent Nebula**_

 _ **June 24**_ _ **th**_ _ **, 2183 CE**_

"Clear!" the word was uttered several times by the marines and Shepard's team shortly after they rushed out of the Normandy and secured the LZ, a large storage room, or what remained of it, judging by the large number of crates and shelves that were floating around the area. Unsurprisingly, the room was dark, save for the occasional lighting that illuminated the area, so they made use of the weapons' flashlights to scan the immediate area. The metallic walls were scorched black and, in some points, even bent at odd angles, no doubt the result of the stress of the trip the asteroid took to get here, making Shepard wonder about the structural integrity of the complex. The last thing she needed is for the damn thing to collapse on her and the men.

"Allright, you know the plan. Move out." Shepard gave the order and the teams moved towards the exit, a large (now wrecked) shutter door, while the remaining formed a tight perimeter around the entrance to the Normandy's garage.

From there they progressively split up as they reached several branching paths until only Liara and Wrex remained with Shepard, heading deeper into the complex using the path scanned by the turians early on.

"What do you think are in these?" Wrex asked out loud as he swatted one of the many crates that floated around the corridor from his front.

"Don't know. Could be rations or weapons. This place looks like it was built like an underground bunker." Shepard answered, based on the look and design of tight hallways they were walking through.

"Then where are all the soldiers?" Liara questioned.

"Dead most likely. With any luck we maybe be able to find several bodies down the path and figure out where this damn rock came from." as Shepard replied she noticed that the crates were marked with a strange symbol, what appeared to be a double-headed eagle with its wing spread out. Said symbol could also be seen marked multiple times over the walls, albeit barely due to the scorch marks.

Several minutes passed with nothing of worth happening until Shepard's radio came to life.

"Shepard, come in." Garrus voice filled her helmet.

"Go ahead. Did you find anything?"

"Yes. Several discarded weapons and what appear small magazines scattered all over the place, along small burn marks on the walls and floor. Seems like a firefight took place in here."

"Magazines? What kind of weapon still uses those?" she wandered.

"None that I recall. From what Ashley remarked they don't even appear to use any form of mass accelerators like ours and the magazines are built like they are some sort of battery." Garrus noted.

"Any sign of bodies?"

"None. Most likely been incinerated." the turian deduced.

"Very well, pick one of the weapons and several magazines so we can analyze them later. Warn me if you find anything else."

"Roger."

Soon enough, Shepard and her group found a similar scene down the hallway, burn marks dotting the corridor and abandoned weaponry floating around. She picked the closest weapon to take a better look at it. The rifle immediately struck her as something anachronistic, something akin to the firearms used by humanity before the discovery of the Prothean cache on Mars, bearing the same eagle-like pattern she saw earlier stamped on the crates just above the handguard. The gun was nearly a meter in length and significantly bulkier than any rifle she used so far, it's rough surface contrasting heavily with the sleek design of common weapons she was accustomed to. The barrel was also wider than usual and lacked any form of optical sights, as well as any type of folding mechanism. Finally she set her sights on the magazine port, something that stuck out like a sore thumb those days, ejecting and then putting the magazine back on the slot after inspecting it. She squeezed the trigger, while pointing the weapon to the ground, anxious to see what it could do, but, much to her and the other's disappointment, nothing came out of it.

 _Out of ammo. Damn it._ Shepard though to herself while strapping the rifle on her back and taking several (hopefully filed) magazine clips. She had no time to waste, so trying out her new toy would have to wait a bit more. So far only her and Garrus's team were making progress as every other team sent to investigate run into dead ends or were simply moving around in circles. They kept passing scenes like the one before as they closed in on the center of the complex, until they suddenly stopped appearing altogether for some reason, and that struck Shepard as something odd.

More time passed, and, as they were approaching the end of the path the scanner's had pick up, Garrus voice boomed again. This time, however, it noticeably lacked the calm and professional tone it usually had.

"Shepard!" he practically shouted, almost sounding like he was on the brink of panic.

"What's the matter?" Shepard wasn't oblivious to the turian's tone of voice and began to worry "Did you reach the core?"

"Th….aaaargh…!" she heard a thud from the other side indicating he had collapsed on the floor. Nevertheless he continued, struggling to make a coherent speech "Thi..- this is got to be it! I think… argh!"

"Stay with me Garrus, what's going on!?"

"We're standing in a suspended walkway overlooking a large column emanating a strange purple glow!" Tali's voice came instead, just as in much pain as Garrus's, "Keelah, our instruments are frying just trying analyzing that thing!"

"Commander this is too dangerous, we should pull back. Something is very wrong in this place." Liara voiced her opinion.

Shepard fully agreed, but they simply couldn't pull back until they found out exactly what was happening here. Hackett mentioned an energy build up within the complex and she dread to think on what would happen if whatever was affecting the others reached the Citadel. Also her own sense of curiosity was highly peaked, as her head tried to wrap around all she had seen so far in this place. They need to get to the bottom of this, no matter what.

"Pull back to a safe distance. I think I'm seeing a faint light straight ahead, so we should be close."

"I don't like this Shepard. The doctor's right we should leave and then blast this place to ash." Wrex suggested.

"And how do you know that won't make it worse?" Shepard pointed out.

"All I'm saying it's probably a good idea to pull back for now."

"Scared now Wrex? The big ol'krogan running away from some lights?" she jested.

"Damn it, Shepard!" he forcibly placed himself in front of her to make her stop "The turian was practically emptying is bowels and, as much I disdain their kind, they are not the sort to act like that! Whatever down there is fucking with their heads and I reckon is going to start doing the same to ours if we keep going forward! I'm sure I'm not the only one feeling it." he turned his head slightly towards Liara, waiting for her to back him up.

'It' Shepard deduced was a strange sensation lingering around them, since they arrived, that kept getting stronger the further inwards they went. Right now she was sweating profusely and her heart was beating like crazy, so much so that she was struggling to stand on two feet.

"We have to find out what's going on, otherwise God knows what will happen if this spreads. If you really feel that uncomfortable Wrex then by all means get back to the Normandy. I'll find the answer myself if I have to." Shepard shoved him out of the way, continuing to march towards the lighted area.

The krogan could only summon an annoyed grunt before he and Liara felled behind the Commander.

The light at the end of the hallway did indeed come from the odd glowing pillar Tali mentioned, as Shepard's group entered the large hall shortly thereafter, they were greeted by its ominous presence.

"Goddess, what is t…. tha…" Liara collapsed to her knees and arms, struggling to breathe properly. As Wrex, also visibly in pain, quickly rushed to aid her, Shepard felt the same sensation that afflicted the others rushing in, piercing her head. Several foreign emotions forced their way onto her mind, each stronger with each step taken: anger, despair, arousal, bliss, hunger, hatred and, most dominant above all else, fear. Yet she crept ever near the pillar, as a moth enchanted by its the supernatural light, desperately fighting back the urge to pass out and throw up.

"Shepard get back! Shepard! Shepard...!" Wrex shouts became more and more faint as time itself apparently slowed down to a crawl.

A dozen or so meters away, Shepard began to see the strange shining patterns that adorned the pillar, drawn in bizarre, alien shapes. Said shapes then began to twist, turn and slide along the surface into more recognizable figures like circles and squares until finally, much to her shock, the formed clearly comprehensible words.

 **:**

 **WELCOME TO THE SECOND ACT COMMANDER**

 **:**

 _WHAT. THE. FUCK!?_ every fiber Shepard very soul loudly cried out to the point it broke the column's daze on her.

 **:**

 **WATCH YOUR STEP**

 **:**

Before she could keep reading the text, she tripped on a large rectangular container that somehow, despite the lack of gravity, was placed firmly on the ground.

 **:**

 **TAKE IT**

 **:**

Shepard raised her head to see these last words right as they disappeared and the column started flickering. Simultaneously the floor beneath them started to shake violently and debris from the walls started to litter the area, while Shepard got back on her feet, the sensations from early almost disappearing completely.

"Shepard, we've got to go this place is falling apart." Liara grabbed her by the shoulder, finally getting her attention.

"Right. Let's get back to…"

 **:**

 **TAKE IT**

 **:**

As she tried to move away, a voice screeched those words, ordering her.

 **:**

 **TAKE IT**

 **:**

She felt she was going deaf, for the pain was unbearable.

 **:**

 **TAKE IIITTTTTTTTTT**

 **:**

Not capable of enduring it anymore, Shepard instinctively grabbed the large box by the column, a task made easier by the zero-G environment, and made her way back to the corridors as fast as possible.

"What are you doing!? Leave that." Wrex turned around and yelled after noticing the Commander had gone to pick the crater.

"Just keep running!" she simply ignored him and kept running.

"Commander you there!?" Joker called in, as Shepard frantically ran down the tight hallways leading back to the LZ, box in tow.

"Yes, Joker. What's going on?"

"I don't know what you did back there but the whole goddamn asteroid is collapsing unto itself." Joker reported.

"The other teams?"

"Already aboard, just waiting for you, Commander."

"Good, we'll be there shortly."

"Please hurry. I don't want to be around if this thing suddenly goes supernova. And given our track record…"

"I'll try."

The last meters to the Normandy were even more frantic as large fissures appeared all over the walls and floor, forcing Shepard, Liara and Wrex at some points to jump over the large gaps forming on the ground. They reached the LZ in the nick of time as the entire room completely broke apart sending the three careening towards the cold void of space where they were swiftly picked up by the Normandy. The sudden shift in gravity caused them to crash on the floor hard, particularly Shepard with the now rather heavy box she was carrying, prompting the rest of the personnel to rush to their aid.

"Skip, you okay?" Ashley asked while lending her hand to Shepard.

"Fine." she replied with a slight sarcastic tone "What's the situation?"

"The asteroid is still disintegrating and it's energy signature is off the charts and keeps going up. We cleared its immediate area, but judging the amount of power its radiating I'm not entirely sure it'll be enough." Presley's voice filled her intercom, answering her question.

"Assuming that's what screwed with our heads back there... if that hits the Citadel." Garrus pondered.

"Yeah, that will be bad. Presley, alert C-Sec and Alliance Command. I want every available force ready to meet whatever's coming our way." she ordered.

"Yes, ma'am."

The next couple minutes passed along anxiously, was the crew cleaned up the debris that had been spewed out the asteroid into the hangar, bracing themselves for whatever was to come.

"How are you holding up?" Shepard turned her attention to Liara, sitting on a corner with her head held down.

"I'm okay, Commander, just a bit dizzy from the experience." Liara reassured "You?"

"Could be worse. Last time I got a headache this big was after Eden Prime."

"You walked very close to that column, Shepard. Are you sure you're okay?" the asari's face shown a great deal of concern.

"Yes, stop worrying about it."

That was a lie. She was not okay in the slightest. More so than the jackhammer currently pounding her skull, it was the words she saw on the column that disturbed her greatly; they way they were formed, the way they addressed her, almost mockingly, the way they echoed on her head even now, nothing about it added up.

"Liara." she hesitated briefly "Did you see anything on the column?"

"Like what?" the doctor looked puzzled.

"Like weird shapes, symbols… words."

"Words? You saw words, Shepard? That you could understand? What did they say?" she suddenly stood up, astonished by what Shepard just said.

"No… I mean… I thought… forget about it. I was probably just hallucinating."

"Shepard, if you saw something you mustn't dismissed it liked this. For all we know that could be a new type of Prothean beacon we hadn't encounter before." no, it wasn't a Prothean beacon, her gut told her that. What she experienced was far more uncomfortable that what the Eden Prime beacon had subjected her too, not to mention the way those goddamn words burrowed itself unto her very soul.

"Shepard talk to me. What did they said?"

"I was just imagining it Liara, it was nothing." she tried to end the conversation here but Liara wouldn't relent.

"Shepard. What. Did. They. Said?"

"Nothing, I told you already. Nothing, they..." she tried to deny it, but saw it was useless "They…they said…" she was about to answer when, in a flash of a second, in came the same sensations she experienced before, swepting over her with such a force that they render her completely mute. Then came Pressley's voice, roaring from the intercom.

"Massive energy spike detected from the anomaly! All hands brace for…!"

The warning came too late.

* * *

 _ **Imperial Battleship "Heretic's Demise"  
In orbit above Cellas Prime  
Segmentum Pacificus**_

 _ **840.M41**_

Numerous alarms rang across the bridge, and its crew frantically struggled to respond to each single one of them.

"What in the Emperor's name is going on!?" Admiral Constantine shouted, trying to get some answers from anyone.

"Our energy sensors lit up on several spots located on the planet's surface." One of his subordinates shouted from his station "Whatever they're emitting, its destabilizing the planet's magnetic field and affecting the gravity well."

"Emperor, no." though the cogitators hadn't fully analyze the data being constantly fed to them and come up with a conclusion, the Admiral's many years of sailing the stars immediately told him what was happening. There was only one thing that could affect the inner physics of a planet on that scale and that quickly "All ships, activate Gellar field and Warp-Drive! Prepare for immediate Warp jump!"

The Demise, and every other ship in the vicinity, was smack in the middle of an emerging of a Warp storm. Their best option, he knew, was to try and execute a Warp jump as quick as possible, before the navigators lost sight of the Astronomicon which would leave them stranded while the barriers of real space were gradually eroded around them.

The crew raced to carry out the orders, and relaying them to every other vessel nearby, but all was for naught, as the storm grew in fury exponentially, rapidly engulfing the orbital plane. The deck shook violently, making several of the personnel crash into the floor, at the same time that the ship's electronic systems overloaded, spreading glowing white sparks everywhere and incinerating several servitors attached to the consoles.

"Warn*buzz*ing. Planetary integrity com*buzz*promised. Recommend eva*buzz*sive maneu*buzz**buzz*." one of the burnt out servitors managed to blurt out the warning before its circuitry finally gave up on it.

* * *

 _ **Imperial Navy Transport "White of Dark"  
In orbit above Cellas Prime  
Segmentum Pacificus**_

 _ **At the same time**_

Abroad the White of Dark, the crew also frenetically tried to respond to the escalating crisis at hand. All the while, the Kriegers did what they do in times of predicament; they hunkered down and entrench themselves. Most of the senior officers knew all too well the danger of a massive tear in reality, particularly the threat of daemonic incrusion, so they moved deep into the bowels of the ship and quickly fortify the numerous passageways using improvised materials. They would do little if the threat actually came to materialize, but it was not in the spirit of the Korps to simply resign to their fate without a fight.

Essing moved back and forth between positions, coordinating her men and several of ship's security detail with an unnatural calm that unnerved the latter, given the severity of the situation. She saw several of Radec's soldiers take up positions as well but, when questioned, none of them knew his whereabouts. Leaving the last bits of organization left to her direct subordinates, she set about to find him and, acting on a hunch, promptly discovered him peering down the observation deck, like she did several hours ago.

"You should be with your men." she said while approaching him.

"As should you."

"I came to find you. And my men are already prepared for the worst."

"So do mine." he let out a small chuckle "Remember the conversation we held here earlier lieutenant? How I wished I it would 'be the last time we have to see this Emperor forsaken planet'?"

"Yes, I recall."

"It seems the Emperor is kind enough to answer my prayers. None shall ever set eyes on Cellas Prime again." he let out in a somewhat amused tone.

Now standing side-by-side with the Colonel, Essing saw what Radec meant.

The entire planet was covered with a purplish red haze, dotted by massive bright lava colored cracks that continued to expand at an alarming pace. It began to literally crack itself open, continent size pieces of the crust and mantle were torn and sent careening into space until, finally, Cellas Prime detonated in a massive ball of energy.

Both officers just stood there, unmoving, unflinching, even when the ship rocked violently, gazing upon the destruction as they were surrounded by a white light.

* * *

 _ **SSV Normandy  
Serpent Nebula**_

 _ **June 24**_ _ **th**_ _ **, 2183 CE**_

Shepard and Liara hit the wall hard, as the wave of energy hit the Normandy from its stern, sending objects and people flying all over the ship, many passing out due to the severe gravitational force from the sudden decceleration or simply because of the inevitable harsh landing. Tiles from the floor and ceiling were ripped off from their spot, exposing the circuitry which flared as it couldn't handle the stress it was being subjected to, even with its built-in dampers. The impact was so strong that the vast majority of the Normandy's system shut down, though the crucial ones like life support and propulsion quickly reset on their own, and even the Mako was dragged a couple of meters and tilted over to its side.

It took a couple of seconds for Joker to regain control, after which Shepard was the first to get to her feet, clutching her abdomen with one arm, though not before she took some time to regain her breath. Liara soon was also standing, having instinctively used her biotics to cushion the crash, and both of them quickly moved to help the others still moaning in pain on the ground.

"Status report! Tell me what happen!" there was no response from CIC "Pressley!"

"Pressley is out, Commander. Sensors and communications are still offline, so it will take a while to figure out what the hell happen outside. Guess I was right about the whole 'going supernova' thing weren't I?" Joker let out a small chuckle in between the grunts of pain.

"Let me know when you get something then." she sighed.

"Aye, aye, Commander."

* * *

"Ok, one, two, threeeeee…" Ashley, Wrex and Garrus, alongside half a dozen marines, struggled to flip the Mako back on its wheels.

"Doesn't this thing have a system that does this automatically?" Garrus asked.

"Can't use it inside the hold." Ashley replied.

"Just great." he sighed heavily.

"What's the matter, your arms getting tired?" the lieutenant quipped.

"I went shoulder first against this blasted piece of…" the turian winced in pain "…you tell me, Wrex."

"Aw, so the poor turian is hurt. Want me to fetch the doctor?" Wrex, again, jumped at the chance to poke fun at the turian's aches.

"Well not all of us have the benefit of having a thick skull likes yours. Have you seen the dent you left on the lockers?" he retorted.

A loud crashing sound echoed through the hold as the team finally managed to flip the Mako into place.

"So, that's done. What now?"

"Look around Vakarian, still a lot of clean up to do." Ashley pointed out the amount of wreckage still littering the floor.

"Riiiiiiight." the C-Sec officer rubbed his temple, making no attempt to hide his frustration "Just let us be done with this already. I really need to lay down a bit afterwards."

Scanning his surroundings, the turian's gaze fixated on a particular object that stuck out like a sore thumb, though in the commotion everybody else had been ignoring it so far.

"Hey, does anyone knows where this came from?" Garrus inquired, moving towards a large rectangular container.

"Hmm." the krogan let out a thoughtful hum "I think that's the box the Commander picked up in that asteroid, right after it started to collapse."

"Strange, we had already picked up several of those crates by that time…" he pondered, while crouching to get a better look at it "…although this one seems different from the others. Any idea why she brought it with her?"

"Ask her. I told her to leave it where it was. Waste of effort."

"I wonder what's inside." Ashley expressed her curiosity as well.

"More weapons and ammo, most likely. Just leave it there, we still have janitor duty to attend to in case you forgot." the mercenary reminded them.

"WOW!" just as Ashley and Wrex turned around they heard Garrus surprised shout followed by a large thud. They found him sitting on the ground with a look of utter shock in his face.

"What now turian?" Wrex grunted.

"That thing just moved." the stunned Garrus pointed his finger at the container while picking himself up.

"What?" the krogan asked in disbelief.

"It moved."

"I thought you said you only got hit in the shoulder, not in the head."

"I'm telling you, it moved." the turian reemphasized his statement, with a more rash tone, turning to face Wrex.

"And I'm telling you, you're imagining it." who still didn't believe him.

"Ah, Wrex? I think I saw it move too." Ashley, yet again, interrupted the bout between the two.

"Humph, that column thing must have really screwed it your heads if you think there's anything in the…"

As if on cue, a large streak of red light came shooting out off one of the box's edges, imprinting a small scorch mark on the wall. The entire area became silent, as the buzzing sound the beam made caught everyone's attention, particularly of the three closest to its origin.

"Safe to say, I wasn't the only one this time. Right?" a second beam, this time coming from the opposite corner of the crate, confirmed it.

Instinctively, most of the crew immediately cleared the area, finding shelter in the corridors leading to the core or behind the Mako, whilst the others quickly grabbed their weapons and aimed their barrels at the container. Hearing the commotion from the intercom, Shepard also made her way to the scene as fast as possible.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Your box apparently came with a little present inside, Shepard." Wrex responded.

With the hold dead silent, she could clearly hear the trashing noises coming from the container, as whatever was inside tried to escape its confinement. Her pistol quickly joined the multitude of guns surrounding it.

"I'm open to suggestions here people."

"Throw it out the airlock. That damn asteroid already cause us enough headaches as it is." Wrex promptly voiced is opinion on what the course of action should be.

"We can't do that. There might be someone inside." Liara replied.

"Or someTHING. And, judging by those two marks over there, its armed." Garrus added.

"No, Liara is right. First we find out what the hell is in there, then we decide what to do with it." Shepard decided.

"Most likely after it rips most of us in half. Any volunteers?" Garrus mused.

"Stay put, I'll deal with this." _After all, I was the one who brought the damn thing here._

Cautiously, Shepard stepped closer to the crate, pistol always pointing at it, watching for any sign that might indicate an attack. Most of her mind, however, could only focus on those damn words she saw earlier, because of which she was now in this situation.

As she approached it, the trashing then became louder and somewhat more rhythmic, large dents appearing near the two holes made by the beams. The lid of the container, relenting due to the onslaught of furious thrusts, finally came off with a final blow sending it to the floor, whilst the rest tumbled to the side opposite side of Shepard's, and anyone else's, point of view.

Slowly, several marines moved to flank the crate from each side, trying to get a better view of what it spilled on the other side, as Shepard also continued to move forward. Everyone stopped when, out of the blue, a hand emerged from behind the container coming to rest atop of it, and then another followed suit shortly after.

 _Oh my God._ A sense of utter bewilderment and shock filled Shepard and all those who witnessed the large dark figure that used the crate as leverage to clumsily stand up, lifting its head to meet their stares.

Its large crimson red eyes were easily the most distinctive feature, followed by the white skull painted around them and the large tube sticking out of its 'mouth'; next was the steel like helmet and greatcoat, both of them black, adorned with a couple of grey pouch belts around the waist; and, to top off the oddity in front of them, large sections of the uniform and mask bore dark stains of what many quickly identify as blood. If the rifle Shepard encountered before hit her as something antiquated, the figure in front of her seemed like it just stepped out of a time machine, which, given the circumstances of the day, she wasn't going to rule out just yet despite the absurdity. She and the rest of the crew stood flabbergasted for a couple dozen seconds, while the masked stranger vainly attempted to stand upright, before slowly continuing to approach it.

Despite the struggle, the unexpected guest did notice the soldiers, with their weapons drawn, closing in on him and, perhaps instinctively, threw his back against the wall and clumsily raised his own. The rifle he wielded bore unmistakable resemblances to the ones Shepard and her team found on the derelict asteroid and, with all likeability, the one he used to escape the container.

"Shepard...?" Ashley asked cautiously on next course of action.

"Maintain your distance." she told her, turning then to the unforeseen company "Lower your weapon, we mean no harm." The figure ignored her, out of disorientation or defiance Shepard didn't know "I'm Commander Shepard of the SSV Normandy, lower your weapon soldier." she kept insisting but it was becoming clear that he wasn't going to obey.

Moreso when he took notice and aimed the rifle at her, opening fire. Fortunately his aim and grip were sloppy so Shepard easily avoided the buzzing crimson streaks whilst ducking into nearby cover.

"Non-lethal Williams!" on prompt, Ashley shot a concussive round that struck him in the gut.

To both women surprise, that did little to stop the stowaway who instead fell to one knee, grunting in pain, and shifted his inaccurate fire in the Lieutenant's direction. The distraction did however provide an opening for Shepard to use her biotics to throw him against the wall, admittedly with a bit too much force as she wasn't used to being gentle when using her powers. Reeling from the impact, the masked visitor collapsed on the floor while Shepard and her subordinate rushed to his side, to make sure he was both restrained and alive.

"Damn it, he's suffocating! Take the mask off!" Ashley observed, as she and Shepard did just that. The face behind it was revealed to be that of a human being; short cut ash blond hair complementing two (semi-open) green-gray eyes, built with rough features and decorated with several scars.

"Get him to the medical room now! Tell Chakwas we have a wounded here!" the two lifted and carried him over by the arms towards the elevator.

"Clear the way!" the Commander barked at the spectators, all of whom were extremely curious about the unfolding incident "How is he, Liara?" she solicited a response from the Asari doctor as they rode up to the second deck.

"The vomit went to his lungs, we need to hurry." she informed her, checking his features for an impromptu diagnosis. The upward motion stopped and the door panels slid back into their fold.

"Out of the way people, out of the way!" shooing the idlers away, Shepard dragged the stowaway towards the medical room, where the resident doctor had already taken preparations to receive him. His arms and legs began flailing lazily and aimlessly as she laid him on the nearest bed.

"He's coming around. Quick, sedate him." anticipating this, the elderly medic jammed a substance filled injector into the exposed part of his right arm. His nascent struggle quickly subsided allowing Chakwas to work on him unmolested. She quickly stabilized her patient and started on performing the standard medical test for those situations.

Feeling no longer useful, and overly exhausted by the whole affair, Shepard and the others left her to her work.

* * *

Minutes passed, dragging on to a crawl.

The commons became the gathering spot for most of the crew whilst they waited for new developments on either to what was happening outside or pertaining to their new guest, that strangely clad man. A hubbub of gossip filled the area, as everyone threw their speculations into the air, trying to make sense of what happen. But more than that, it was the churning wave of emotions that crashed down on them that most were trying to wash off, their Commander included.

 _Just what in hell is going on?_

The anomaly, that strange energy.

The asteroid, the bunker embed into it.

The discarded weaponry, the signs of a fight.

The pillar, those foreboding words.

The box, that unknown man inside it.

Try as she might, Shepard couldn't sew a logical thread to the events that transpired just a few moments ago. Her gut told her that something major was going down, and till so far all the presages didn't account for something pleasant.

"How are you holding up?" mirroring their previous conversation, Liara took a seat next to her.

"Fine and dandy. Given the circumstances, it's the best I could hope for."

"Are you sure? You don't look so good." she observed with worry "Maybe Chakwas should-"

"I'm fine, Liara! Let her work on the stowaway… that I brought aboard." Shepard reminded herself "Guess it technically doesn't make him a stowaway then."

"Why did you bring that container with you? It doesn't seem like something you would do in such a situation." the asari doctor wondered.

"That fucking column told me too."

"What?"

"The glowing pillar. I… I saw words on it, remember? They told me to take the box with our new friend in it. No… not told. Ordered. It ordered me to take it with me. Take it. Take it. Take it. _Take it! Take it! Take it!_ Those two damn words… that accused thing drilled them into my skull till I relented." her inner core of her psyche defiled by that accursed object.

"Shepard…"

"I'm worried, Liara." another lie, she was terrified beyond her wits "That sort of thing… if it reaches anyone else… I…"

She felt Liara's hand resting on her shoulder, but it did little to calm or reassure her. The best she could do was to keep the strong façade, her men could not see their Commander break down, especially if they were feeling it too.

"Commander…"

"Joker, you got anything?"

"Yeah, you say that… visual sensors came back… you gotta see this." his modicum of apprehensive enthusiasm and trailing sentences got her worried.

"Gotcha, I'm heading to the Comm Room." she turned to her crew "Anyone is welcomed to join me."

It wouldn't be fair (not to mention impractical) to keep all of them in the dark, she thought. In a fast pace, she ascended the staircase back to the Command Deck and stepped into the Comm Room along with nearly every crewmember, equally desirous to see the exact aftermath of whatever had hit them.

"Relaying feed…"

Shepard thought her previous mission had completely numbed her ability to be surprised but the image currently on the display proved her dead wrong.

There was no longer an asteroid… or rather no longer _just_ an asteroid.

A whole fresh corpse of a planet laid there instead.

Dead smack in the middle of the tempestuous cloud, utterly shattered into countless incandescent pieces, ranging from colossal continent-sized slabs of rock to tinier asteroids the size of the one she had investigated not too long ago. Whatever broke the planetoid had done seemingly from the inside out given that the fragments spread out from the center, away from its deformed metallic core. Bright orange plumes danced around it, igniting the nebula's gases around them, mixing with the purple haze and lighting of the anomaly, now large enough to engulf the entirety of the broken planetoid.

"Well, there goes our vacations. Never a dull moment with you, eh Shepard?" Garrus was the first of flabbergasted audience to break the symphony of gasps.

"Goddess, what happen? Where did that planet come from?"

"The same place that damn asteroid we checked out, I'm willing to bet. It's gotta be." Wrex deduced, correctly in all odds.

"Suppose that makes sense, and that would be a first in this whole fucking mess." Shepard vented.

"That's not all, Commander."

"What else Joker?"

"In the cracked planet's orbit. Here, I'll zoom in." the image focused on a specific corner of the image, Shepard and the others quickly founding out what Joker meant.

"Are those…?" several of the asteroids shape's were much more defined than what could occur naturally.

"Ships, yeah. Very big ships, an entire fleet worth of them. The smallest one I'm picking up is the almost the size of a dreadnought. And this one…" the frame further centered on what struck Shepard as a medieval cathedral by its profile "…is the biggest." and quite possibly the biggest in the known universe. By the scale indicator on the screen, the mammoth vessel was more than 10 kilometers in length, eclipsing by far anything that the Council races, and anyone else for that matter, could muster.

Besides its sheer bulk and outlandish design, there was one more aspect that came off as striking, particularly to Shepard after her little side adventure turned Lovecraftian nightmare. Illuminated by the dying embers of the mutilated planet, she could see it stamped on the flank of the ship… a proud symbol adorning the colossal vessel…

A twin-headed eagle.

* * *

 **Well here it is. My very first fanfiction, unearthed from the deepest piths of my Documents folder.**

 **I wrote these two chapters shortly after I got acquainted with fanfic culture at large, and this site in particular, way back in 2010. Moved by my love for Warhammer 40k and my then recent enthusiasm for Mass Effect following the second game, I decided to have a shot at it. I mean... how hard could it really be? Granted, I now know how time consuming and frustrating actually putting your idead into paper can be. And so, shortly after completing the first chapter, of the first part of a planned trilogy (hence Overture), my interest in continuing it simply petered out and I left it to collect dust up until recently.**

 **Like I mentioned in the summary, I DO NOT plan to continue this story (or at the most not right now) with several other stories ongoing and a crapton of work to do IRL. To say nothing, that most of the plot points I had planned are long, long gone. ****This is merely a way not to leave my very first work completely in the dark.**

 **Hope you enjoy my first foray into the literary world.**


End file.
